


and life goes on

by haru8



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, Post-His Last Vow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-20 15:05:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haru8/pseuds/haru8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John isn't happy. Sherlock is not doing well after being saved from exile (read certain death). Things are coming to a head. The birth of baby Watson is eminent. This will be eventual Johnlock. There will be a few twists and surprises along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

From the moment that the plane took off carrying Sherlock away forever then back to him things had changed for John. Emotions and realizations shifted into place. When Sherlock disembarked from that hateful plane the game had been on, again. They immediately started the hunt for Moriarty, again. The trio along with Mycroft had gone to Baker Street to review the information they had. John had instantly been sucked in. He remained continuously at the detective's side to the point of being neglectful toward Mary. Her due date was fast approaching with little headway in the case of Moriarty's return. Though it was starting to appear as if it may have been a hoax of some sort. At the very least Moriarty was not a continued threat. The good doctor spent more nights than not in Baker Street. He had to admit, even if only to himself and barely then, that being with Sherlock and in Baker St felt more right and like home than anything he'd experience thus far. That included his flat with Mary, you know his wife. That was a bit not good he knew but there was nothing for it.

Time marched on. It seemed that Moriarty was actually Mycroft. He had had his people create the video and Anthea(or whatever her name was this week) to ensure it's broadcast at the proper moment. it wouldn't do to tell Sherlock or I of the fact however. God forbid. Though I suppose to an extent it makes sense. It couldn't be too obvious that Moriarty's return was faked or revealed too soon. Otherwise Sherlock would have been shipped off anyway. So seeing as he got Sherlock back and for good I wont beat him to a bloody pulp for being a colossal prick. I have my best friend and that's enough. Sherlock has been able to finally relax after what seems like ages. His post case burn out has lasted much longer than usual. As if the thought that all his effort and sacrifice being for naught and drained him to his core. That he is still trying to pull himself back together from the shock of it. There has been much more sleeping and lazing about in 221B than was seen before. I can't say I dislike this docile Sherlock. It's nice to be able to spend time with him without Sherlock flitting around the flat like a _hyper_ 2 year old. We watched telly. I have even been able to catch him up on pop culture shows and movies! It's bloody amazing. He eats. We have had more meals together at this point than i can count. All good things come to an end however. One evening in the mist of our dinner my mobile rang. I glanced at the display to see Mary's name blinking at me. "Hello? Mary is everything alright?" "John! it's time! The babies coming!" "Time?! Are you sure...? I..I mean...have you called an ambulance? Do I need to come drive you?" "Yes. No. I'm having them take me to Bart's. Oh I hear the ambulance. See you." "Yes! Right! See you." I clicked off. I wanted to get up and rush out the door. I wanted to celebrate with Sherlock and see if he would even go to hospital with me. But I couldn't seem to move. Everything seemed to hit me like an elephant on my chest. _In a matter of hours I'll be a father. I'll be responsible for another person, a tiny, helpless person. It's all well and good parenting a consulting detective. An actual baby is another matter._ I seemed to be lost in the abyss of my self doubt for hours but as it turned out it was only a minute or so. Then I heard, "John? Aren't you supposed to be leaving? Mary is in labor, correct?" That brought me round. I gave a start then turned to my friend. "Come with me? You're about to become an uncle after all", I said with a good natured grin. It earned me a dark glare in return. But after a few moment and a long suffering sigh Sherlock said "Right. Give me a few moments to dress and I'll accompany you. But! If my brain rots from boredom I'm holding you accountable!" I couldn't help it I laughed. Long, loud and hard. I'm to be a father!

 _Well this is tedious. How long do I have in this horrible room? Is this shade of white meant to be soothing? Honestly?_ The detective sat in the maternity ward waiting room. John was in with Mary but had promised to come fetch him soon. He had wanted to see what was going on and be sure Mary was up for company, especially that of the Sherlockian variety. That left Sherlock to wait. He got out his phone and began to tap away. After what seemed like hours the doctor appeared again. A raised eyebrow and slight tilt of the head the only response to his appearance. "Yes. Everything's fine with Mary. Thanks for asking." John chuckled softly. "Well come on then Mary's waiting." 

Sherlock follows John into the room. Mary looks reasonably well under the circumstances. "Hello Sherlock. Come for the festivities?" The detective's face contorts in confusion for a moment. There will be festivities after the birth? John laughs. "It's humor Sherlock. You know what humor is, yes?" A glare now. "Obviously." With a huff Sherlock sank into the nearest chair. After a few moments of waiting Sherlock said, "Well what are we waiting for? Get on with it." Both Mary and John turned to Sherlock with aggravated frowns. He shrunk back in his chair slightly. "These things take time. I've got a while to go yet." Mary told him. "Then why am I here John?" John gave an exasperated sigh. "For godsake Sherlock! Just behave for once. Honestly!" Having been thus chastised Sherlock slumped into his chair further and proceeded to simple observe. To take in this experience. It is unlikely he will ever have another like it. This is his pseudo niece(or perhaps nephew) after all. There may even be something to learn here as well.

Time ticked away. Sherlock grew restless. John wasn't much of a distraction. He was too focused on Mary. Labor progressed somewhat slowly. Eventually Sherlock couldn't stand it any longer. "I'm going for a walk. Text me when something interesting happens." With that he strode out of the hospital room then the entire hospital. He thought about simply going back to Baker Street but decided to turn around and go to the lab instead. When he reached the lab Sherlock found he was alone. It took a few moments of thought to decide on an experiment to perform. Soon enough the detective was absorbed in his work. Meanwhile John was supporting and coaching Mary through her labor. It was several more hours before anything happened. But eventually it was time for Mary to push. John encouraging and comforting Mary all the while. After a few strong pushes Mary gave birth to a healthy baby girl. John was overjoyed. He had a daughter! A little precious girl! Baby Watson had a tuff of dark hair on her head and brown eyes. The doctor passed the baby to Mary. She cried as she held her. She and John shared a loving awed look. They were parents. They basked in the glow of the birth for a while longer before John recalled Sherlock. With a gasp he said, "Oh! I need to tell Sherlock! We're parents! We've got a little girl! I'll be just a moment love." Rushing from the room John took out his mobile and phoned his friend. It took several rings for Sherlock to pick up. "Is the baby here?" was the detective's form of greeting. "Yeah! She's here! I'm a dad! I...I can't believe it! My daughter......." John's excitement was palpable. It bled into Sherlock somewhat and he found himself smiling slightly. "That's wonderful John.......Should I come back...or?" Now that the moment had arrived the detective felt a bit apprehensive. This was a family moment. A family he wasn't a part of. He didn't belong. Perhaps now John would see that? Before Sherlock could go too far down that rabbit hole he's fears were abated with John's answer. "Of course you git! You're her godfather. You better come meet her you idiot!" came the good natured answer. On a relieved sigh Sherlock informed John he would be there shortly. Ending the call he started to dismantle his experiment. As he tiddied up he found himself becoming a bit giddy. Godfather John had said. Godfather! What was the man thinking! Ah well. John has always been strange. 

Within a few minutes the detective found himself outside Mary's room once again. This time to meet his, what? His goddaughter? Niece? Something in between? No matter there was time to consider that later. Now to congratulate John. Lifting a hand he knocked on the door. John called out to him to come in. "Hello again John. Mary." Sherlock's eyes sought out the tiny form in Mary's arms. It was mostly concealed by the swaddling blanket. "Well come on then! Get over here and meet her!" It took only three short strides to reach the bedside. Mary beamed at him, turned the baby towards him and pulled down the blanket. When the baby was revealed Sherlock couldn't stop his eyes from widening quite noticeably. Those keen eyes known for seeing what no one else can bounced between John Mary and the baby seemingly without end. This wasn't right. It...No it couldn't be. He couldn't be seeing this. He was wrong this time. Just this once. He had to be! Had to be! He couldn't....He can't do that to John. To his friend. His BEST friend! As these thoughts raced through his head Sherlock heard John's voice. "Sherlock? Sherlock? Are you alright? What's? What's wrong? Sherlock? it's getting scary now. Answer me please." Shaking himself Sherlock returned to the present. "Ah. Uh congratulations John. She's lovely I'm sure. Well I think I'll head back to Baker St now. Goodbye John. Mary." A sharp nod had Sherlock spinning on a heel out of the room. John stood dumbstruck. What had just happened? What did I miss? It only took a couple seconds for him to get his bearings and head after Sherlock. Dashing down the hall he saw a telltale black coat tale trail around a corner. With a burst of speed reminiscent of the chases they tend to engage in John rounded the corner and called out to the detective. "Sherlock! Sherlock! Wait!" 

Hearing his blogger's voice Sherlock felt cold dread run down his spine. He didn't want to stop. He didn't want to turn around. To face John. But he had little choice. John deserved answers. He deserved to know. Slowing to a stop Sherlock turned to face him. "John?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "Don't give me that crap Sherlock! You know why I came after you. What was all that about just now?! What was that look?! That was your deduction face. Talk. Now." He had taken his captain stance radiating authority. it set Sherlock's nerves a bit on edge. He really did not want to answer but John was not giving him much choice. "John I,....perhaps we should...discuss this at a later date?" he tried. "You're not getting out of this Sherlock. Talk or so help me..." A bone weary sigh escaped the man in front of John. "You're not going to like what I have to say John. Are you sure you wish me to continue?" "When do I ever like it when you deduce me? Out with it." A deep breath then, "John. You are a doctor. I may refer to you as an idiot at times but even you should realize that the odds are nearly astronomical for a blonde blue eyed man and woman to produce a dark hair dark eyed child. I had thought her reaction to my deduction at the wedding was strange. She did not simply seem shocked at the news but afraid. Odd dont you think? Why would a woman react that way to finding out she's pregnant at her wedding of all times? She wouldn't. Now, however, it makes sense. Now I understand. She suspected even then John. I'm sorry." 

There seemed to be no air in this hallway. Why is there no air? Why can't I breathe? What is Sherlock telling me? Why is he telling me this?! Why now?! I can't....I dont understand. What's happening? John's hands had begun to shake. He brought them up to his face and let out a shuddering gasp. At that moment his legs started to give way. Sherlock reached out to steady him. John's head landed on his friend's shoulder as he continued to try to breathe in the seemingly oxygenless hall. Sherlock fully supported John and eased them down to the floor. He held the doctor in his arms as his world crashed down around him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been so long since the last update! how are you liking the story so far? leave me a comment. them ore comments i get the soon i'll update ;) if there's anything you'd like me to include or whatnot feel free to let me know!

They stayed in that hallway for a long time. Sherlock didn't know what to do for his friend. What did people do in this situation? What should he say? He needed to get John up and out of this hallway. He knew John would be embarrassed if anyone saw him in such a state. But how to go about moving him? As Sherlock considered his options he held on to John rubbing slow circles up and down his back. John hid his face in Sherlock's shirt and clung to his shoulders. His world had just come crashing down around his ears. _What had he done to deserve this? Did the universe have something against him? After everything that had happened in the last year, everything he'd had to overcome why was he dealt another blow like this? Hadn't he been through enough?_ As John was thinking this Sherlock decided it was time to take action. Using as gentle a voice as he could muster while being careful not to sound patronizing he said, "John. John I think we should get off the floor now. Come. We'll go to your flat and pack a bag for you. You're staying at Baker St effective immediately." John felt numb. Lifting his head he realized he was indeed collapsed in the ward hallway. Sherlock was right he needed to get up. The thought of staying in the hospital one moment longer was repellent. He wanted to be as far away from Bart's as possible right now. Looking at the detective he saw a depth of emotion that was shocking. _Was that concern? Pain? Sadness in his face?_ True Sherlock cares more than he lets on. But this level of empathy not to mention his sensitivity to the situation were highly unusual. Ah well he could think about that later. He just couldn't muster the energy at the moment. "Yeah." A deep shaky breath, "Alright. Ok. Yeah. Let's get out of here. I can't stand this place one more minute." With a curt nod Sherlock help him up and lead them out of the hospital. Once outside he hailed a cab for them and gave the address for John and Mary's flat.

The cab ride was a silent one. Sherlock sat stiffly in the middle of the seat wanting to be close to John, offer support but not entirely sure how. John leaded against the door staring blankly out the window. He didn't feel anything. He was numb. How could this have happened? What was he going to do now? He could feel Sherlock directly at his back. Quite close in fact which was surprising. Though they weren't touching it was oddly comforting. Out the window John saw his flat coming up. The place where he'd built a life, a good one or so he thought. That was all a lie apparently. Things would never be the same. The life he thought he'd built in that flat was gone. As the cab pulled up to the curb he took a steadying ready to go inside when he felt a hang on his shoulder. It gave a quick squeeze. "I'll get your things John. Do you need anything in particular?" A relieved shake a gray blonde head was his answer. "Right. Well I shall return as quickly as I can." With that Sherlock bound out of the cab and up to the flat. He had already lifted John's keys from him. After a short climb up the stairs he let himself into the flat. His quick silver eyes took in everything before him. 

There was nothing extraordinary about what he observed. A bit of a mess here and there but nothing terrible. A half full tea cup next to the spot John liked to sit. A blanket thrown aside on the couch and a basket full of laundry next to it. A few dirty dishes in the kitchen. Unremarkable, yet it was the remnants of a life that would could never be again. The thought caused Sherlock's chest to tighten reflexively. With a deep breath he shook off the sentiment and set to work. First he gathered up John's laptop and all things that went with it, charger and the like. While he was thinking of electronics he located John's mobile charger, his shaver and it's charger, and a pair of headphones he knew John was partial to. Next he moved on to the bedroom.  _What clothes would John want? What can he not live without? If I were John and all this had occurred to me what would I want?............Jumpers! John loves jumpers! He'll need underwear obviously. Hm, also trousers and shirts. He can't wear jumpers all the time as much as I'd prefer that. What else?......OH! Sleepwear! John will kill me if I don't provide him with any pajamas!_ That thought brought a small smile to Sherlock's face. Thinking done he dashed around to gather the desired items. He also went to the closet and found John's RAMC duffle to pack everything in. The entire process took about 15 minutes. Sherlock took the elevator back down to the cab. John glanced out the window to see his friend approaching with his old army bag slung over his shoulder and his computer bag over his shoulder. When he reached the cab Sherlock commanded the cabbie to open the trunk. Once he loaded the bags he climbed in next to John and gave the cabbie the address to Baker St. He told the the man the quickest way to get them to Baker Street and promised a handsome tip if he got them there as quickly as humanly possible. That done Sherlock scooted into John's space dropping his arm onto the seat so it touched the doctor's thigh. John could feel the heat of the detective against him. Sherlock was very close. He didn't usually get close like this, not in cabs. Strange as it was John couldn't bring himself to mind. It was nice really, dare he say comforting? Sherlock was trying. John could see that. And just that knowledge cheered him.

Soon enough they were pulling up outside Baker Street. John felt nostalgic. He was going to be living at Baker St again. Without him realizing Sherlock had paid the cabbie and got his things out of the trunk. He was startled by his friend's voice, "Come along John. If you don't get out I'll have to pay an extra fare." Sherlock had opened his door and was holding a hand out to him. As crazy as all this was John couldn't help but smile looking up at him. He took the proffered hand and let himself be pulled up and out of the cab.  They walked up the steps and paused while Sherlock let them in. Then John found himself ambushed and engulfed in a hug by Mrs. Hudson. "Oh John dear! It's dreadful! Just dreadful! I'm so sorry love!" She stepped back and put her hands on each side of his face. She looked close to tears. "Now don't worry about a thing! I've readied your room. New sheets and everything. I'm going to make you tea. And you let me know if you need anything else. You understand! Anything love. We're so glad you're home!" With that their landlady, not their house keeper, rushed off to apparently prepare tea. During the outburst John had glared daggers at the detective or snitch as he was being thought of at that moment. With hand on hips and a raised eyebrow John accused, "You told her Sherlock! Honestly! What were you thinking?!" He was working up a real head of steam now. He had crowded into the detectives space jabbing a finger into his chest. Sherlock backed up a step and put his hands up in a defensive pose. "John. Calm down a moment. Be reasonable please." He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly and lowered his hands somewhat. "She would have found out regardless. Mary just gave birth yet you're moving back into Baker Street? Don't you think she'd have found that a bit suspicious? Also I know you are exhausted. You room has been untended since you moved out before I returned. If you were going to inhabit it tonight it would need some preparation. Dusting and the like. Not to mention you bed was bare. I doubt you feel up to taking care of all that right now?" A quirk of an eyebrow and a questioning look was giving here. In response the doctor deflated some. "I thought not. So I texted Mrs. Hudson alerting her to the situation and asking her to get your room ready. That's all John. So please calm down and relax. I told you I'd take care of things so let me." John blew out a long sigh and nodded. With slumped shoulders he let Sherlock guide him upstairs to his, now theirs again, flat. He was manipulated onto the couch and told to wait for Mrs Hudson with the tea. Serhlock headed upstairs with his things. It was a while later that he came back down to find John finishing the tea and looking utterly worn. Walking over to his friend he sat next to him putting a hand on his shoulder. "Right then. I think it's time you slept. Come on let's get you upstairs." The kindness and gentleness of those words had John looking up. What met his gaze caused him to draw in a shocked breath. Sherlock's face was devoid of all it's usual acridness, it's smug confidence, it's hard set. All that was left was concern, kindness, a bit of hurt yet not Sherlock's own, and strangest of all.......was that....could it be love? The detective's eyes shown with it. After blinking a few times to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was he was urged up and towards the stairs. He felt like he was in a daze after everything that he'd discovered and with Sherlock looking at him like that. He needed to sleep. Yes. Sleep, that's what he needed. Everything would be less confusing in the morning. Once they reached his door, yes it was his again, Sherlock bid him goodnight with a slight squeeze of his shoulder that his arm was still around. John collapsed on the mercifully already made bed without even bothering to take of his clothes. He was asleep in between one breath and the next.

Once John closed the door Sherlock stood there a moment before turning and making his way back to the sitting room. He wasn't in the mood to sleep, he rarely was. He was hesitant however, to work on any experiments lest he disturb John. He ensconced himself in the couch instead and began to think.  _How did I miss all this? How did I not realize? I should not have be caught off guard in such a way! I should have prodicted this! I never should have allowed myself to trust Mary again!_ Stupid! _Now look what it's cost John! What if he blames me for not seeing? Will he leave? Ugh! How did I not see?! Sentiment! SENTIMENT! Damn!_ This line of thinking continued to torture Sherlock until well into the morning.

 


End file.
